the zhaf speaks

Monday, May 29, 2006:

See the 48km/h in the bottom right corner? He seems to think that's pretttttyyyy fast.



I'm no photo whore, but I don't want my baby bro to have a dearth of kiddy photos like I did. So here's the both of us - cine arcade, doing what we do best, being little boi-bois.



I think he enjoys being kidnapped. What an exhibitionist.



X-boy wannabe.



I might as well post some older photos. Thanks Moto L7.
The Boots.



Lopsided-out-of-bed hair.



Something... Doesn't smell quite right. Maybe it's the guy intruding in the pic -.-



Having world peace as your ultimate ambition... Not too bad kiddo. =)

---

I must say, the feeling of being 8-5 in the army isn't too disagreeable. Not too rough for my first day in green working office hours. I even managed to wake up on time and take bus-train-bus to camp (bleeding waste of money). I could get used to it. Too bad I'm off for the next 2 days xD

---

So after post-BSLC admin on Saturday (including copious amounts of swearing and cussing at languishing till 5 in camp).

I'll finish this up another time. Just to remind myself I'll write about...
managing expectations,
social commentary through the medium of graphic novels,
the ramifications of running through orchard road butt-naked, screaming "the world's ending, bang and be banged right now!". It's a tough job being a doomsday soothsayer, really.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 8:44 am

______________________

Thursday, May 25, 2006:

Gentlemen, always remember. Ultimately, the ladies will ALWAYS be doing the choosing. All we do - give ourselves the best possible opportunity to get chosen. But ironically, the way you do that is by flipping the whole weird-ass dynamic around. Be picky. Qualify her. It must show through your actions. Don't be a jerk, be funny - now that's the magic touch, the hardest part. Can't be hard to have a wee bit more posture and value now, does it? Suppress those evolutionary instincts. Use the... correct head to direct your actions. If you get a shit-test, remember, she's just the bratty lil' sister you never had, until she demonstrates value and interest to you. Feeling turned on? Forget it and deal with the shit-tests first.

But don't get me wrong, the moment you open your mouth, she already knows, albeit instinctively, you want to sleep with her. Can't do much about that, because that's the honest truth. But truth be told, she wants it badly too. Very. Just honeyed up and within her frame of reality. Of course she wants a deep emotional connection. Sorry ladies, I've sniffed you out. Address hatemail to hitori86@yahoo.com.sg (see, you like me already. i like you too, you can be my part-time lapdog).

Yes, we'll ravish you, and at the drop of a hat too. But of course the classier ones - we'll sprinkle it with romance, and adventure and all those things imported wholesale from the Romance bookshelves. So want it, but not THAT much. Make no excuses for your desires as a man, and move through this world without apology.

Remember, the biggest perverts are those who keep it all under the carpet and fawn in the stripclub, too tongue-tied by their toxic guilt to be anything apart from pathetically lustful and garish. Wallowing in a lifetime of twisted fantasies, they've already ruled themselves out, emphatically proving themselves to be unworthy of the merchandise.

And to the ladies, don't be cheap meat on parade, and think that the whole getting into bed thing affirms your desirability. If we do sincerely give a shit, and give it real deep (NOT IN THERE YOU MORON), we can hold out. If we're serious about you, we WILL hold out. If you don't already know, if you're "so fresh, so fine, makes me wanna dine" and it's not just a vibe, but you really have been holding out, that is a major turn on (but not THAT much ;).

And truth be told, insincerity is out of place in the whole social dynamic. The point is, you cannot just be doing it, you must BE it. Go figure. For enquiries call 1800-ISUKASS. In a world where society churns out impotent, engineered products of crass advertising and consumerism, it's refreshing to see someone who's worked their inner game. Tight.

That elusive blend of assertiveness, initiative, consideration, and respect, all at the same time. The value, gentlemen, is in YOU, not in the cash you spend on her meals, drinks and clothes. As J Lo says, "Love don't cost a thing". Unless you're dating a hoe. Oops, big mistake.

Questions have such amazing power, and they will give you the right answers, if you ask the right questions. So don't ask yourself, "What do they want?". Ask instead, "What do they respond to?".

Then again, all this is bullshit. Don't take my word for it. Instead, go get a life - play sports, watch some movies, read some books, mix and match your outfits well, laugh much, lean back, stop to smell the roses, dance classes, self-improvement. And don't forget to bathe. Pretty please with a cherry on top?

"OH MY GOD, HE'S SUCH A MISOGYNIST!"
Yet another bra-burning feminazi. Very. Cute.

And since I'm limited to chasing the dragon and pseudo-intellectual philosophy in camp, this is Zhaf and the void in his heart signing out. Peace.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 10:32 am

______________________

Monday, May 22, 2006:

The day was a puzzling, vexing, conundrum, with life teasing me ever so slightly, ever so persistently, to work me into a fallacious frenzy. And like those times when you think you've weathered the storm, and look forward to the subsequent tranquil, yet are rudely surprised when a second wave comes at you - a relapse had to happen. Twice.

So everything came to a head, with me wallowing in agony, languishing in the limbo that's kept me feeling claustrophobic for 5 weeks straight, and the familiar choking in the hollow of my chest, desires and hopes throbbing tremulously, yearning for sweet release. Just when I was mired far too deep in the morass of despair and excruciating longing, I decided this was just not it. I took out my notebook, and spilled thoughts onto paper. What came out, was surprising to say the least.

---


"And what is this aching? Why am I feeling it? Why does a mere delay in a response unbalance me as such? What is this uneasiness in the hollow of my chest? Why? Why? Why?

Good Lord please help me. Give me strength. Keep me ever so close. Forgive me for I am human and I am ultimately weak in the face of Your vast glory and splendour.

Grant me strong presence of mind. Grant me forbearance. Fill me with hope, and yet grant me the patience to weather the tribulations of uncertainty, of those matters of great gravity of which I hand over to You in my inadequate faith. Grant me Your divine Grace, allowing me to more fully appreciate Your gifts, manifest or otherwise, and to deftly handle those who would act against those I care deeply for, or myself even.

I humbly prostrate myself before You, in my hour of need. For You are the One, the Eternal, the Absolute, and I accept no others, for You have no seconds. Help me find peace, solace and serenity. Calm my spirit and strengthen my soul, that I adopt a countenance that reverently keeps my Lord and Creator as my one and true salvation. Help me find purpose, fulfilment, and contentment.

Thank you, God.

And let me have what I wish for, if it does me more good than harm, if it is what You have decreed for me."


---

I submit myself to fate. It's all about how the ball bounces, and when it bounces. Only with the passage of time, only then shall fate show the cards in her hand.

The news came, that I will be receiving my posting. Later. In a matter of hours I will be given the much-coveted knowledge of where I will spend post-BMT and SISPEC life. The home stretch in a wait that has lasted all of 5 wondrous, agonizing, euphoric, despondent, and pendulous, weeks.

It's a paradoxical brew, the eccentricity of feelings at entirely different ends of the spectrum coexisting, almost like Osama and Bush sitting face to face in the same room. A quaint and incomplete sense of relief, coupled with edgy anticipation, coupling in a solvent of uncertainty.

Euphoric and possibly epiphanous emancipation? Or a further protracted incarceration? And only God knows. God help us all.

Regardless, I dedicate that prayer especially to my best bud, Howard, who is being slowly sauteed in camp, and is need of all the mercy he can get. To those I care for dearly, thank you so very much. You all have made my stay in utopian hell that much more bearable. God bless you all. It helped me tide through my despondency, I only hope it works half as well for yourselves.

And how can I forget. YOU!. You were there when it started, 5 weeks ago. Will you be there when it ends? And tonight, I would have very much liked you to be there, because you really were on my mind. I thank the guy up high for the dvd player in camp and scrubs on television. So, a very good day to you at work. You will read this, and you will know this paragraph is addressed to you. You're smart enough to figure this out, right?

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 10:40 am

______________________

Sunday, May 21, 2006:

Your view on yourself:
You are down-to-earth and people like you because you are so straightforward. You are an efficient problem solver because you will listen to both sides of an argument before making a decision that usually appeals to both parties.

The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:
You are not looking merely for a girl/boyfriend - you are looking for your life partner. Perhaps you should be more open-minded about who you spend time with. The person you are looking for might hide their charm under their exterior.

Your readiness to commit to a relationship:
You prefer to get to know a person very well before deciding whether you will commit to the relationship.

The seriousness of your love:
You are very serious about relationships and aren't interested in wasting time with people you don't really like. If you meet the right person, you will fall deeply and beautifully in love.

Your views on education
Education is very important in life. You want to study hard and learn as much as you can.

The right job for you:
You have plenty of dream jobs but have little chance of doing any of them if you don't focus on something in particular. You need to choose something and go for it to be happy and achieve success.

How do you view success:
You are confident that you will be successful in your chosen career and nothing will stop you from trying.

What are you most afraid of:
You are afraid of having no one to rely on in times of trouble. You don't ever want to be unable to take care of yourself. Independence is important to you.

Who is your true self:
You are full of energy and confidence. You are unpredictable, with moods changing as quickly as an ocean. You might occasionally be calm and still, but never for long.

---

Holy fuck. While most of it rings true, I can't be too sure, because the descriptions are all so very vague and open to interpretation. The education bit is a real pisser though, I thought I left the chao mugger in lock-up a long time ago. Where emotions are concerned, I have to admit that while there can be alot going on below, I suppress most of it, masking vacillations as best as I can. As I heard someone say before, when it comes to people, we can't ever be too sure, can we?

feel like I'm stoned
wanna be alone
just for awhile, unknown

weeks down the road
a long way from home
just shut off the phone

and you say
i'll heal you
i'll always, be yours

and you say
i'll kill you
if I do something wrong

yeah

still feels like the first time
to stand here by your side
together regardless
we'll walk through the darkness

still feels like the first day of my life

And now it just feels like it never ends. So much so, I don't know where it began any longer. The weekend comes to a close, and it's time to go back to camp. Life goes on... or does it?

It ends someday, doesn't it? Life begins someday too, doesn't it?

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 1:36 am

______________________

Saturday, May 20, 2006:

My Abang (that's older brother in Malay) just left for KL. Genting to be exact, for some r&r with his significant other. All I managed was the usual handshake that Muslims exchange upon meeting and leaving. After he walked away, waved goodbye, and walked out of sight, something hit me real hard. Puffing away at dad's salem menthol in the cool morning breeze, sitting at the front porch, I realised - my dear older brother was going (far) away, and I didn't even muster the decency to give him a hug. And again I think back to all the times I wanted to hug mom or dad or anyone else, to say I love you, thanks so much for being there for me, and chickened out. So very... omgwtfbbq. Utterly absurd.

Well since I'm talking about dear ol' family, I might as well mention mom has started reading blogs. I hope she never finds my blog. Mom, if I really wanted to tell you something, I'd probably write it on a piece of paper, hide it somewhere in the bottomless abyss that is my room, and give you clues. Self-service mom.

This week in camp was particularly hellish, very much like walking on a razor-sharp wire that's cutting into your soles like a knife through hot butter, leaving me wondering if it's better to just drop off and fall into the fire and brimstone that lies below. Thank goodness the grass IS greener on the other side.

60 push-ups for someone, just to teach him a lesson, to make him feel indebted and quite possibly despondent over his inadequacies. Small deal for me, big deal for him. When will you start taking responsibility for your guffaws? Get out of that cloistered, half-baked reality that you delude yourself with. Realise that while the world is brutal, cruel and oh-so-very painful at times, it still holds great potential for splendour, beauty, and quite possibly your eventual fulfilment if you do seek it.

And I did 170 push-ups for nothing, of which 60 were given for falling in early to man the office desk instead of outside at the pull-up bars for breakfast. I'm in the army by the way for the uninformed. So yes I do understand why some of my superiors can be cranky. Personally, I'd be insane if I had to stay in the army longer than my 2 years. If I signed a contract as a 5 year regular, I'd probably be in IMH past the 2nd year. What meaning is there in - sitting at the desk, staring at the front door in an inane fashion, or simply clearing the signing in/out of keys, bookouts, and report sick personnel? Far past humdrum, inane and mundane.

I realise I'm starting from scratch one on so many fronts. Rebuilding my financial base, my knowlege, skills and even friendships. It's taking more out of me than I could've ever imagined. "The more you give, the more you have" sometimes just doesn't hold true.

I guess walking through old memories at Holland V with Howard and Justin was a good refuelling session. Poignant.

And like Howard agreed, we all wish we had more to offer.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 3:50 pm

______________________

Friday, May 19, 2006:

Despite the fact that I had tons on my mind, he had his own burst of brilliant lucidity, unleashing a triple-wammy-five-tonner on me. So even though I haven't unloaded, you've reminded me of the trivial nature of the things I'm dealing with, compared to the demons that devour you from within. Thank goodness I don't drink anymore, because the bitterness you dragged out of that morass of chronic misery was definitely exacerbated by the damburger and amsterdam.

I realise where helping friends is concerned, now I'm in completely unfamiliar territory. Aptly described by you, it is an entirely different dimension of existence, where the lines of reality are blurred, and gives you that uncanny ability of yours to decipher the matrix of existence.

So take consolation in the fact that you acutely put the facts out on the table, that you break effortlessly through the facades of hyprocrisy and insincerity. So stop letting the rest of the world get to you, because the burden of the universe is not yours. Be happy, savour those moments you have to yourself.

Tossing aside our crutches is excruciating, and yet the ends achieved more than justify the painful means. Patience. With time comes that requisite clarity of mind. The only reason I've managed to see it in you, is because I'm still hobbling around on crutches. You'll never walk (or hobble...) alone? (shoo liverpool supporters. man utd rocks)

---

The test session with Azri and band is happening later today. 6 songs, of which I'm comfortable with 4. And of which the only one I'm inclined to rehearse is First Day of My Life by The Rasmus. Far too busy trying to get the songs into my head and 'feel it' to go through the tedium of finding someone to bring along. It's just that hard to find someone interesting enough. Or interested enough.

But still, getting the green light to do the vocals is the immediate hurdle. The feeling is a weird concoction of anxiety, fear, excitement, and anticipation.

remember the times
together we swore
never give up, this life

still hanging on
still going strong
here i belong

and maybe
i'm crazy
but i just can't, slow down

and maybe
i'm crazy
but at least i'm still around

still feels like the first day of my life

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 2:15 pm

______________________

Monday, May 15, 2006:

In between the roll-ups, escaping getting court-martialled and the hullaballoo of office politics, and hidden in the mists of the great beyond - somewhere between brazen wakefulness and the tantalizing, fragrant scent of slumber, where vacillation is equilibrium.

In a place where I'm never quite here or there. Waiting, wondering, wishing, hoping, and ultimately, pondering. I'm slurping my mushroom & chicken noodle ration pack, with absolute glee I must say. That helps - food is the opiate of the masses that some oft-quoted philosopher conveniently glossed over in his ivory-towered reality.

Far, far away in west side Singapore, yah! (sung to the tune of Far Far Away in The South China Sea, drag the 'in' btw)

It's... been rather random, or to make it sound a tad nicer, chromatically chaotic.

The phrase eludes a mind besought by nicotine, but I believe I dubbed it an epiphany of sorts. Intolerable? Insufferable? Perhaps. Yet, by the way it obviates itself so disarmingly, liberating.

Amidst the sad stories that storemen tell, amidst (finally confirmed) revelations of gold for IPPT, the injustice of zhuobolan OOCs being paid more highly than perm-staff lance corporals and deft handling of potential minefields in superior-inferior interactions, there lay the catalyst - a simple phone call from DEAR OLD HOWARD TAN (aka Chen Hao Hua. go figure. you'll probably be laughing once you do).

It starts from bad, goes to worse, and then some. I reminisce (or ruminate, whichever annoys you more) the near misses and ALMOST!DAMMIT!s. The conversation goes on and on, at one point I realise we've gone full circle, reverse order. And we're back to square one, where we first started. As two wide-eyed 14 year olds, wanting to test and break and maim and abuse the system, of course all in good-natured fun (without a doubt).

You'll probably never read this, just like how you never call, eh Howard? So as best modern web tech will let you know, thanks. Remind me to let you see this before lung cancer gets me. "Just... be" eh, bro? So zen. So... you. So idiotically simple, it could have come from none other than you.

And while the nobel-prize winning author of The Economics of Innocent Fraud has left this mortal coil, you'll step up to the plate and clinch future prizes - Economics AND Peace of course (leave the ones for Medicine and Chemistry to me). Just for you trivia junkies, John Kenneth Galbraith is, or was, the economist with a conscience who wrote that masterpiece.

Now we'll see how well the rest of today goes by. Remember, you wake up at 630, but my bunkmates' alarms kick me rather unceremoniously out of the twilight zone an hour earlier. So yes, I do have the right to morning irascibility.

You're a pretty good engineer of sorts for a math-retard of an arts student - you've made something go "click!" in some old, long-forgotten machinery deep down inside. And so I'm obliged to light up a roll-up for you. Here thy tribute ends, here my indulgence begins. For I'll be content to be the star of the fiery-passionate tryst that leaves me with my pants down teasing "well. maybe... only if you say please" (Howard. for the record, you will NEVER get that far). You'll be. Well. Holding hands. Fine and good. So. Have fun... holding her hand?

Which leaves the question of the day - Will Zhaf sing in Azri Gan's band? Whoo Pasir Laba Idol!

I've had a sampling, an atom of it, on the tip of my tongue. Tingling down my spine. Racing in my heart. Fire in the belly. That indescribable, effervescence of being. That ineffable feeling.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 11:20 am

______________________

Saturday, May 13, 2006:

And here I am, telling myself to stop, slow down, and smell the roses.
But if I can't find the roses, then jolly well hand me a cigarette to smoke.
The occasional poppy plant would be good too.

Yet again, it's the plague of the educated - analysis paralysis. Hand over the adrenalin, now. Switch on the damn defibrillator, jolt me a good one. Thank you very much.

So now, I will have faith. I will wait. Hoping for the best. Maybe I'll stop expecting the worst - it's having a debilitating effect on hope.

It's a harsh world. It's a weird world ("I let my friends listen to me have sex" - Maxim. lol). But hey, we live in it, lets laugh at it. Just remember, be generous with your thanks - when life decides to tease you with some beauty. Hold on, but never too tight - that's when the flower wilts.

I'm not making sense, and frankly, neither is the world. But unpredictability, that is what makes life fun. Can't blame her for that, eh?

Smile for me, baby.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 11:01 am

______________________

Thursday, May 11, 2006:

How oh-so-goddam-bloody resplendent it is to awaken after 12 hours of sleep, to pull and stretch your upper body alllll the way back, and feel that jolt going down your spine. One of those days when you wake up with the sunlight smothering your face, egging you to get up and get going. Tomorrow, for the giddiness still lingers. Pass the nicotine, chump.

So I'll get a nigga-rocking good rest today, then if circumstances permit, Friday night will be smashing. Chances are I won't get smashed but I'm sure I'll have to help someone or another, Friday nights with RnB in main Zouk are inevitably interesting occasions, especially if I'm feeling the vibe (haha). It's good to know that wingmen like Rehan and Ashley are still working the scene. Miss the good old days, or then again maybe they'll be back now that everyone's entering summer vacation. ZOUK ZOUK ZOUK ZOUK ZOUK!

Hit me baby one more time.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 1:57 am

______________________

Wednesday, May 10, 2006:

I keep waking up to cough and drink water. And so while the nausea and dizziness still rule my head, I'll try this little one-off.

Once upon a time, there was a boy. A young spritely lad of no more than 11, or 12 years of age I believe. Amidst all the pressures of school, of ambitiously striving for the great school which his forefathers attended, he found happiness in the smile of a certain classmate. How she fascinated him, how she made the day more bearable. When he mustered enough courage, he'd meekly pick up the phone and dial her number, and when she picked up, and said "hello", he would do the most ridiculous thing - he'd hang up. Why?

One day, someone handed to him a most peculiar thing - a present. Nothing too expensive. Nothing too flashy. Just something fashioned with the utmost care. Something that came from the heart. Something unbelievably simple. Ice-cream sticks meticulously glued together, somewhat flimsy, yet still endearing. The sticks combined seamlessly to form the canvas for what must have been, to this day, the most beautiful rendition of that boy's name. Each letter spelt out with coloured marker/paint/etc, he didn't know because he never ever did his art homework. The letters were coated with glitter, or could it be star dust that his secret admirer gathered every night, thinking of him?

How happy that boy was. Good lord, did someone like him? Could it be someone he liked too? And his greatest fears and hopes were realised when he found out - that gift came from - her! He'd run his fingers over the small spaces between the ice-cream sticks, brushing ever so much glitter off the letters, feeling the texture on his fingers, staring at the ceiling and thinking of - her.

And so, he mustered up the courage to call, and still banged the handset down the moment her voice sounded over the line. And when she shot furtive glances and reluctant smiles in his direction, all he could do was turn beet red and turn away, or retreat to his friends for a game of basketball.

If only that boy knew then, what I know now. I wish I could tell him, to be brave, to take a chance, to have the courtesy to say "thanks", to at the very least stop a fragile heart from shattering into a million pieces. Did he even have any idea how lucky he was? Didn't his parents teach him anything about being grateful?

That boy is now a man, 20 years of age. He'd say sorry now, but he knows it wouldn't mean a thing. He'd want to say "thanks" or "that really made my day" or even return the gesture - but people move on, and so did he. She must have been heartbroken. Then again she might have been utterly annoyed and condemned the male species because of his utterly inscrutable idiocy. We're inclined to believe the latter is more probable. Who knows?

That was then, when he was young and didn't know any better. When the possibility of "no", the possibility of failing and hitting the ground hard was unbearable, and the agony of having her in his sights, but intentionally out of his reach through his own devices preferable.

But now, would he know better, should history repeat itself in a similarly different fashion? Would he know not to let go when he was fortunate enough to be presented with such a chance? Would he be smart enough to hold on tight, and never ever let go, if star dust was sent his way again?

Would he ever dare to love? Yes he did. And love he did with all his heart. And he experienced the excruciating agony of unrequited love. Karma at work? Only heaven knows. But that, that is another tale to regale the audience on some other sleepless summer night.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 1:47 pm

______________________

Saturday, May 06, 2006:

It's raining cats and dogs. Not to mention donkeys and mules too. The downpour is simply phenomenal. To top it off storeman Faizal just narrated hantu stories to me. I'd type out the stories but I'd probably just scare the bejeezus out of myself.

In the end CDT duty ended up pretty good, apart from the long wait for cigarettes. Harold and Kumar enraptured me yet again (for the 5th time). While the cookhouse food was above decent today, I still want to head over to grab some White Castle burgers. But otherwise, you can get so hungry you just ransack combat rations from the storeroom. The chicken dumpling meal still tastes good, and I haven't forgotten how much closer I felt to heaven when it was all I had to eat during BMT field camp.

The things I did today were so mundane, which in a way helped to calm my overactive mind. Polishing my old pair of outfield boots, sorting out laundry, manning the company line phone and et cetera. This really isn't good to be honest, because ultimately it's just another escape. It's like being suckled on state welfare - you can get so intoxicated that the reality that faces you in society is so far away it's not even a distant memory anymore. In the end if I'm looking at it from the outside, I'm in stasis. I'm running in circles, week in, week out.

And then again, once I'm posted to 8-5 (hopefully), it'll start again - the round robin of part-time degree studies, violin/etc tuition, trading, pool, domestic affairs and the whole range of visions vacuous and idyllic. The possible salsa/hiphop classes, getting a record out, writing something substantial, and I could go on into infinity and beyond. Did I mention zouk and mos? I'll probably be teetering on the brink, with insanity waiting for me down below. But I'll be happy, stimulated and have more material to work the scene with.

Which reminds me that the lovely ladies studying in USA will be back soon for summer vacation. Dang. More stalkers.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 11:05 am

______________________

Friday, May 05, 2006:

I will not allow myself to scream or bawl over this in real life - so let this be my silent scream. Let this be something that will sting and leave that bitter aftertaste for the moment, and yet something I will laugh at when I meet the buddies 10 years from now, or when I'm telling army stories to my progeny (haha).

Everything happens for a reason, and yes there truly is a reason why SISPEC has been aptly dubbed
Suffer
In
Silence
Plus
Extra
Confinement

While we may have suckled ourselves till we were corpulent on a diet of long phone calls, movies in the restroom, questionable games on the office com, blog surfing, the endless sentimentality on the speakers, binge smoking and those precious extra hours in bed, those good memories inevitably come with a price, especially if you're doing these in an army camp.

I won't be seeing the outside world this weekend, because of CDT today and gate sentry duty tomorrow. That's basically about 40+ hrs straight of duty. The only light at the end of the tunnel is that i *might* get 2 days off later on, though my commanders have gone back on their word more than once. If only I had a camera phone, then I'd be able to take a picture at the end of it as a memento of the despondence of life as a man in green. A half-dead zombie pic'd be a great way to chase away stalkers on friendster though.

Then there was this morning's breakfast. You've made a prior agreement with the duty sgt to go for breakfast at 630am. Yours truly comes down pretty early at 615am, only to be doing push-ups for 15 minutes straight just because the people who were supposed to take the first shift at 6am were nowhere to be found. You smile, you laugh it off over breakfast to calm down your buddies who are smashing their fists on the table and feel like stuffing the crossaint and egg omelette up a certain sgt's arse. You grin and bear it, and you tell the buddies to do the same, to smile and remember that we're men in green and that essentially we've no rights, that today we will all be booking out. Then silently you curse the fact that you'll be slaving in camp this weekend.

So yes I will smile. And yes it's not exactly insufferable. But I'm tired of being strong for the buddies and past weary of being strong for myself. But slowly it sinks in that the things you want most are a world away, almost entirely in a different dimension from your current pained existence. And you think that for the rest of this weekend and until bookout next week, perhaps the same injustice will be meted out, and you will have to grin and bear it yet again. Did I mention I only have 4 ciggies left to last me the weekend? I just might resort to drying grass and rolling it up with newspaper for kicks. Yes guys if you ask for it I'll sms you my bed at the cancer ward.

So where is my solace? Would it be indignant for me to say that I deserve a break? Or then again, if everything happens for a reason, perhaps this isolation from the things I love will allow me to realise and prioritise which matter most.

And one question remains resonant in my mind - How can I ever offer solace to anyone, when I am in need of it myself?

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 4:31 pm

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One of those nights where the thoughts hit you hard and fast, but can't come out coherently. Maybe later. Maybe after a puff. A stroll around the block.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 10:05 am

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Monday, May 01, 2006:

What can I say Justin Chan. Wo hen ai ni.

I felt like destroying something beautiful says:
who knows what zhafri might do if he releases his secret weapon... the phermones of incorrigible lust

zhaf - bookworm soldier says:
fck u dude

zhaf - bookworm soldier says:
lollll

zhaf - bookworm soldier says:
tt was funny though

I felt like destroying something beautiful says:
yeah

zhaf - bookworm soldier says:
hahahahah

I felt like destroying something beautiful says:
its always safe to make fun of things you know don't exist

zhaf - bookworm soldier says:
-.-

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I'm beginning to understand why some people hate love songs with such ineffably incredible intensity (the sort reserved for shady politicians, flakey ex-es and their ilk). Lets examine some lyrics critically for the heck of it.

lady
i just feel like
i won't get you
out of my mind
i feel love
for the first time
and i know that it's true
i can tell by the look in your eyes

Lady by Modjo (wayyy back from Sec2. brilliant stuff)


and in the morning
i'll be gone, away
all the things i left behind
if you need me
i'll come night or day
let's stop the hands of time

Love Is On The Way by Saigon Kick (some rock lovin'. far out stuff from too long ago)


when can my heart beat again?
when does the pain ever end?
when do the tears stop from, running over?
when does you get over it begin?

When Can I See You Again by Babyface (probably by and far the most masculine artiste moniker since Boy George)


Seriously these songs are nice to listen to. But they very revealingly describe how insanely idiotic people can be.

"i won't get you, out of my mind"? Yeah what you're going to get is a fucking migraine. Prozac anyone?
"if you need me i'll come night or day"? I'm waiting for the day teleportation machines are available at COURTS.

And for the most brilliant of the lot. A round of applause for Babyface everyone.
i - Stop holding your breath. That might help
ii - It's called asphyxiation, retard. Breathe.
iii - The moment you're dehydrated and dead. Well done.
iv - When you stop being a wuss, Babyface (what kind of God-forsaken name is that anyway)

And still. If loving you with all my heart's a crime, then I'm guilty.
I love my love songs. So sue me =)

I'll lambast Guilty by Blue tomorrow. Goddam ghey boy group.

-unshackled and unfettered he seeks power sublime- 12:50 pm

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